The Quiet Shop
So, I have been reading 1984 by Orwell and got inspired to write my own piece of fan fiction with my character.
Alex talking about the kid that reported his brother and effectively killed him
Alex leaned forward, the old chair creaking under him. "I almost killed the sneaky brat," he said, his voice low, even — like he was reliving the memory.
"Caught him alone. A field trip. Deep in some forest. No telescreens. Just a shove...just one shove," Alex mutters, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Mr Charrington paused mid-sweep, glancing behind him at the younger man, his eyes gentle but sharp — like steel beneath velvet. "Did you do it?"
Alex shook his head, tapping the splintered table with his gloved finger — jittery rhythm, like a racing heartbeat. "Couldn't do it — the kid wasn't the enemy. Just one cog piece in the machine," Alex's eyes dropped to the table, becoming heavy with something quieter. "The Party is the real enemy — not one brat."
The ticking of the old clock fills the room. Mr Charrington stays silent, his eyes slightly narrowed in thought or calculation — filing every word away. His duster drooping in his hand, forgotten.
Alex's head jerks up, his eyes wide and hollow, with something wild and fierce in them. "Just once," Alex says tapping his forehead. "I want to look one of those Inner Party bastard's in the eye..." His grin cracked across his face — dry, too wide. "When I put a hole through their skull."